St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1887-04-18
JAY GOULD MORALIzES.
He Remembers His Boyhood Days and
is GIeeful.
He Recalls His Riches, However. and
Grows Sad, Very Sad.

kneed.
After ALL" quoth Mr.. Gould, ''after
ALL what does man get in this world ex-
cept something to eat and something to
wear and somewhere to lve?"
HIS c0nundrum unanswered by his lis
tener MI Gould answered it himself.
The poor man ought to be the happiest
man." went on the millionaire. wealth
brings care without compensation. A man
gets rich and then he's slave. Very
mistaken ideas exist on this subject"
With so much promised. Mr.. Gould pro-
ceeded to tell in genial way OF the joys
that once he himself knew, and now was
too rich to know any more.
All" he said Il often recur to the days
When was boy up in Delaware county.
was pretty happy lad. There wasn't
much wear and tear i'll life then. How
good it would feel just to go out and drive
the cattle home from pasture once more.
And how delicious it would be to stoop
down by the old cow again to do the morn
lngs milking. and just squirt stream of
fresh, hot milk in between my lips as used
to do! That was nectar. That's what gave
an appetite for breakfastp'
Mr.. Gould's eyes gistened. Boyhood
memories were evidently much to his taste.
"a boy on farm ought 70 be one of the
happieSt beings alive" he added. He
may leave to go out in the buster world, and
he may make more money elsewhere and III
other ways, but he'll never be jot happier
anywhere or anyhow-not jot; it isn't in
human possibility to be happier OF course,
though. nobody is evercontented. L remem-
Der how it was with myself. One of my
boy friends was Sam Dimmiek. who lives
up at KingSton-on the Hudson. His
father, Col. Dimnlck. was one of the we'll
TODD men up in Delaware county in those
times, and l remember that used to wish
and wish and wish that something would
happen that would enable me to get as rich
as was. He seemed like Crosus to me.
And left the farmI'
1.-The reporter thought of one or two peo-
p he'd heard about who would have been
just as happy if Nh. Gould hadn't left that
farm. and others who were willing to see
him go back: but this iulpudent idea was
unuttered, and the reminiscent millionaire
continuing. told about one experience that
was not altogether happy
Going to church," he explained. ICON
tributed this one bit of sadness. We used
10 start from home early every Sunday
morning." he said, land ride over to the
little yellow meeting house where the coun-
VI y iouuo WOISIipCu al ~ y ClUCh lHG
proceedings began. They were real pro-
ceedlngs, too; [ can see the tall old elder
yet as he loomed up in the pulpit and
went at his sermon. Eleven o'clock came,
and the elder was getting under way; ~
o'clock arrived. and he was only becoming
warmed up. At 1890 we adjourned. All
over? Oh, no. We were only on a
half hours furlough. The sermon
stopped in the middle to let us eat the
lunches that we had to bring along.
After the lunch the dominic plunged ahead
unchecked till well on toward morning.
How hard those board benches in the yellow
meeting house used to get! How very tired
even some Of the most piouS ones used to
grow! Often and often, l remember, the
elder would come to a sudden halt, look
down despairingly OH his devoted flock, and
calculate: Wake up! wake up! Why,
every soul of you is asleepr That would
help for little while, perhaps; but l tell
you it was pretty trying some times on even
the best of folks.
About the Only time, think, when l
was real genuinely interested in church in
those times and under those circumstances
was one Sunday when we were all safely
tucked i'll for the eternal sermon. there came
a smash and a crash against one side
of the church, and the boards
there gave way, and splinters went
flying. We were listening to somethin g
about the wrath to come and most of us
for a time rather suspected that it had
really arrived. The trouble was that our
horses, left loosely hitched outside, had
become weary and were. entering protest
against the elders long windedness by
punching their wagon-pole straight through
tba Cidp nf q
felt under sort of personal obligation to
the old horses. and l guess wasn't alone
in the feeling either. I'd give a good
deal, l assure you, to go through that lively
day again"
Milk ond churches! Both seemed texts
for jubilation. Mr.. Gould laughed and was
gleeful. He looked as it he spoke the
truth in every syllable as he remarked
''Those old days and their experiences were
better than cash-a good deal better.''
Then once more this magnate, the
owner of score OF railroads, an assert
ment OF legislatures, judge or two, and
luXurieS of that Sort once more he pro-
duced his conundrum:
After all. what does any man, however
rich he may be. get in this world except his
board ana his clothes and place to liye?'
Mr.. Gould cited some of the distresses of
his own fate. Pm absolutely out of bust
ness" he declared land he heard no i'm
pertinent chestnut belD. Il am out of
business now. I've got all l can do to at
tend to my own private affairs. I've moth
ing any more to do with the stock market.
and I'm acquiring no new properties. rail-
ways OF anything else. All the gossip Won
hear to the contrary is untrue. Why. as it
is, am kept Oh the drive now from early
in the morning till late at night, without
any let up. day i'll and day out. The money
Eve made has enSlaved me. With financial
success, cares and responsibilities and trials
unnumbered go close together; and there's
no escaping the embarrassments and
troubles. A rich man ought to be Judged
pretty generously. He has a good deal
more to contend with than people who
aren't rich generally suppose"
Il think l could find citizen or two
who'd be willing to relieve you," suggested
the reporter.
Mr.. Gould didn't ask for their addresses.
He only repeated: Food and clothes and a
place to sleep, that's all man gets in the
world. l don't care how rich he is. The
boy on the farm, the man who isn't driven
to death to look fer property that is in his
name, they are happiest-or ought to be. y
''S'pose we change" ventured a re-
porter.
Mr.. Gould began remark, but right in
the middle OF the first word into the Wind
sor's corridor strobe Broker John q. Moore
Mr.. Gould's eyes lighted on him, and he
grasped his hand. Mr.. Moore is gentle
man. every inch of him. but there is one re-
porter in this town who may go to his grave
bowed down with the thought that but for
Mr.. Moore's appearance he might have
made comfortable swap with Jaw Gould.
AS it was, Mr.. Gould seemed to make n
sudden resolution to bear up under the bur-
den of his millions himself.